The Continuing Story of Sam Lavelle
by Child of Loki
Summary: The experiences of Sam Lavelle from the episode Lower Decks during the Dominion War. Chapter 3: He may have survived the destruction of his ship, but Sam is having serious doubts about the near future...
1. Sam's Bad Day

**Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek: TNG or its characters…**

**Author's Note: I'm not sure why I felt compelled to write this. I just did. I've always liked the characters you don't see much. I wonder what happens to them, what they were doing during various times; especially after the episode _Lower Decks_, in which the character of Sam Lavelle is introduced.**

**If you are unfamiliar with the episode, here is a brief synopsis, from wikipedia:**

**"Four young _Enterprise_ junior officers find their friendship strained during personnel evaluations. Two of the friends, Sam Lavelle and a young ****Bajoran**** woman named Sito Jaxa discover that they are being considered for the same job. Joined by their pal Ben, a civilian who works as a waiter, they learn that promotions seem to be already decided on for their other two friends, ****Nurse Ogawa**** and the young ****Vulcan**** engineer Taurik.**

**Meanwhile, we learn that ****Commander Riker**** and ****Worf**** differ on whether Lavelle or Sito should be promoted. At one point, ****Captain Picard**** also chastizes Sito for her role in a Starfleet Academy scandal (depicted in the earlier episode "****The First Duty").**

**Considerations of promotions are interrupted, however, by a baffling secret mission that all but Lavelle are involved in. Left out of the loop, Lavelle becomes convinced that this is a sign that he will not be promoted. Coached by Worf, Sito stands up to Picard and is assigned the dangerous secret mission where she will pose as a ****Bajoran**** captive taken by the ****Cardassians**

**Tragically, Sito is lost on the mission, and all that is recovered of her escape pod is scattered debris. Lavelle receives the promotion, but is downhearted. However, his friends come to his side to raise his spirits."**

**My fic picks up sometime after all of the events of _Lower Decks_, during the Dominion war.And now that I've spent so much time on hype, here's the extremely short first bit.**

Sam's Bad Day

Lt. Commander Sam Lavelle inhaled sharply, then nodded to the two men standing on the opposite side of the door. The _Manitoba_ had been boarded by Jem'hadar. He only had needed to hear the Captain give the word and he was off to the armory, collecting what few security personnel could be spared and proceeding to Engineering with determination. If the enemy soldiers took control of Engineering, the ship's fate would be sealed, if it wasn't already.

He smashed the control panel next to the doors with his fist, unintentionally shattering it. The doors responded despite his overaggressive assault upon the mechanism. Sam charged through the opening into the smoke and chaos filled engine room, the two security officers following close behind him. The three immediately opened fire upon identifying their targets, who were currently subduing the engineering crew. In all fairness the unarmed engineers were giving the Jem'Hadar a hard time, although not quite meriting a fullblown battle.

Lavelle and the security officers' opening shots promptly changed that. They were only able to get off the first round of phaser fire before the Jem'Hadar soldiers rushed them, giving up energy weapons for their axe-like swords. They must have found it more thrilling to hack an enemy to bits than simply killing him with an energy blast. However, Sam didn't have time to ponder this or anything else in the few microseconds it took the fierce enemy warriors to fall upon him and his men.

Maneuvering the phaser-rifle, Sam managed to block the blade of the warrior who had targeted him as he brought the sword down to cut Sam in two. The save seemed to surprise the Jem'Hadar. He had expected to end the human's life rather quickly, like he had done to so many others. He had not expected the man to react like a warrior, to possess quick reflexes in a moment of panic. Sam used the enemy's momentary consternation to strike back, knowing that he would have few chances to gain the advantage and survive this ordeal.

His hands otherwise engaged with the rifle, he chose to knee the Jem'hadar in the stomach, hoping it was a vulnerable spot. It was enough to make the intimidating warrior cringe, but failed to distract him from his target. Tired of being locked in battle with the human, the Jem'Hadar wrenched the rifle out of Lavelle's hands, sending his blade flying to the side with it. He then proceeded to grab Sam before he could react, raising him up by his uniform and hurling him forcefully into a nearby workstation.

The rather rapid trip to laying flat on the floor knocked the wind out of him, as if the smashing into a work station wasn't bad enough. He lay on his back and tried to catch his breath. Deciding that there wasn't really time for that, Sam rolled onto his stomach in order to continue the seemingly futile struggle. Through the ever thickening smoke and flickering lights, his eyes still somehow managed to pick out a phaser rifle lying about ten paces away. Whether it was his or someone else's lost weapon, he wasn't sure, but it seemed like his best bet for survival. He pushed himself up and got onto his feet and made for the fallen weapon as fast, although not quite as stealthy, as possible.

Unfortunately for Sam Lavelle, this just wasn't his day. A sharp pain struck his ankle and he collapsed to the ground, the rifle still a few paces out of reach. Turning around he saw the dying Jem'Hadar collapse, the bastard who had used his last moments alive to sever Sam's Achilles tendon with a shard of broken who-the-hell-knew-what-for-the-ship-was-in-pieces. Knowing it was never good to dwell on a limited portion of your surroundings during a battle, he turned his attention elsewhere just in time to see a particularly psychotic-looking Jem'Hadar warrior rushing at him, axe-sword raised overhead threateningly.

Just as Sam Lavelle was thinking his last thoughts about being alive, the crazed enemy froze mid-dash. A surprised look crossed the enemy's gruesome face and Sam followed his gaze down to where a jagged shiny object seemed out of place protruding from the warrior's chest. The Jem'Hadar fell forward, landing a few feet away from Sam, illustrating to him just how close he had come to being hacked to bits. Behind the fresh corpse, twisted piece of metal still in hand, the Chief Engineer stood frozen with astonishment over what she had just done.

She appeared to snap out of it rather quickly though, for she tossed the piece of metal-turned-weapon aside and moved to offer a hand to the injured Lieutenant Commander. They had just locked hands when an explosion shuttered the ship for the thirty-seventh and last time that day. Instead of her helping him up as she intended, she was thrown to the floor on top of him and the world went dark for both unfortunate crewmembers.


	2. From Bad to Worse

**I don't own ST:TNG or its characters…**

**Author's Note: I may be a trekkie, but my technobabble skills are substandard. Apologies for that (and any tips or corrections would be helpful)…**

From Bad to Worse

Sam Lavelle groaned as consciousness returned to him. Chasing it was the extreme stabbing pain engulfing his lower right leg, as well as the memories as to its source. He groaned, but it didn't do much to make him feel better.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," said a gentle female voice. It was said in a light playful manner, but he couldn't miss the strained undertone. Its owner was under an extreme amount of stress. He forced his eyes open to see the round face of the _Manitoba_'s Chief Engineer, Geena Skolowolski, pathetic smile lighting her weary features.

"Wh-What happened?" Sam managed to croak out. His throat was dry and scratchy. "How long have I been out?"

"It's been four hours since I came around," she supplied. Her face grew sad, adding a further depth of despair to her distraught features. "I don't know how long it's been since...since the _Manitoba_ was destroyed." The last part emerged from her throat as a barely audible whisper, but Sam heard it all the same.

_Destroyed?!_ Then where were they? Sam quickly surveyed his surroundings. The lighting was poor, and there was debris scattered all over the place, and he was admittedly not all that familiar with this section of the ship despite serving aboard it for almost two years, but to him it appeared like Engineering. The look of confusion that spread across his face seemed to prompt the Chief Engineer to explain.

"The final barrage we received, the one that knocked us unconscious, it was too much for the _Manitoba_ to handle. Her structural integrity failed. She was ripped apart," Geena explained, sadness lining her voice as well as what features Sam could make out in the severely dim light. He didn't know the engineer that well, but he had never seen her in such a somber mood before. It took a minute for her recitation of the ship's doom to sink in, and when it did, it still failed to elucidate the situation to him.

"Then, where are we? How are we even alive?"

"When the ship was torn apart, we were lucky enough to be in an area between bulkheads that stayed in tact," she supplied. She gestured to a large pile of twisted metal behind her. "Beyond that rubble, not more than three meters from where we are is nothing but the vacuum of space."

"And less than a meter to your right…," she pointed half-heartedly to the wall in front of her, just beyond where he lay.

"Vacuum," he finished for her, the gravity, or lack there of it, sinking in. That brought up another concern, which he voiced. "How are we sitting here? I mean, there shouldn't be any artificial gravity…or oxygen for that matter?"

"As best as I can figure from tricorder scans is that we're sitting in a section that includes redundancy systems, as well as a good portion of Engineering except for the warp core."

"No warp core equals no power, though. Doesn't it?" He really needed to spend more time in Engineering. He had no clue what was going on. As far as the little he knew about how starships worked, they should be dead, crushed or floating through space.

"Not necessarily," Geena answered. She was trying to be patient with the lieutienent-commander, because she knew he wasn't a starship design and operations expert; he wasn't even a proficient. However, she was exhausted, stressed well beyond her limits, and fast on her way to having a migrane. "Since the outbreak of the war, Starfleet engineers have been trying to find ways to combat power losses during battle scenarios. In the past, a total loss of power would probably mean the destruction of a vessel in a firefight. So, all ships have been installing redundancy systems. Many sections can remain functioning under separate power cells installed in various areas about the ship. We're sitting on top of one such network of backup devices."

He gave her a blank look. Even without the headache he would've been struggling to follow the obviously-smarter-than-him brunette's explanation. Geena decided to give him the bottom line.

"We have limited power-I'm not sure for how long," she said, trying to be clear enough so that the traumatized commander could understand. "There's an atmosphere recycler in this section, but it appears to be damaged. I've managed to setup forcefields to prevent what atmosphere we have from venting out into space, and maybe there's a chance we'll get a few days worth out of the recycler."

"You've setup forcefields?" he asked, forcing his mind to focus. "How?"

She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "

"Wait-I don't want to know," he said, then attempted a smile which turned out a wince in his present state. "Good job, Chief. We may get out of this yet."

"Don't celebrate too soon," she warned. "According to my tricorder readings, the warp core is still in the immediate vicinity. It appears stable for the time being, but without proper shielding, we'll be exposed to the radiation every time it passes close to us. Not to mention, it could become unstable without warning."

She looked at him pensively when she had finished revealing their dire situation. Sam swallowed hard when he saw the fear in her eyes. He felt bad, that he couldn't provide the reassurance she blatantly needed, and deserved. It was a failing of his, that he had always been wary of, something that marked good leadership, something that he lacked. Keeping up morale had never been a strong point for Sam. And now it seemed to completely fail him. Thus, it was Geena who again picked up the conversation.

"I've begun to work on configuring a subspace emergency beacon," she said more cheerfully. "With any luck I'll have it completed within a couple of hours and it won't be more than a day for Starfleet to send help."

"Great," Sam tried to return just as optimistically, but mostly failed. He moved to get up, but stopped with only his head and shoulders off of the ground. It was either the dizziness that swamped his brain or the rather forceful hand Geena had placed on his chest that stayed him. It was probably a combination of both.

"Oh, no you don't," she scolded. He conceded to both her and his pounding head by lying back down. "That wound is pretty bad. I managed to stop the bleeding…"

Sam for the first time seemed to realize that his companion was markedly underdressed since the last he saw her. She was still wearing her uniform bottoms and boots, but her top seemed to have almost entirely disappeared, except for the grey tank top she currently was sporting. He noted that she had nice, toned arm muscles-_probably all that climbing through Jeffrey's tubes._ Her uniform top had been placed under his right leg to elevate the ankle the Jem'Hadar had sliced open. Her yellow undershirt had been used as bandages for the wound.

"Commander?" she asked, looking slightly worried over his failure to remain focused. She had been afraid that he wasn't going to regain consciousness at all. So he _was_ doing pretty well, considering. "This is important. Try to listen."

He tried to concentrate on her face and what she was going to tell him, but he was distracted by her features. Had he noticed how pretty she was earlier, perhaps he would've paid more attention to what was happening in Engineering, instead of avoiding the section of the ship as much as he possibly could've.

"Call me 'Sam'," he informed her. She gave him an exasperated look, but decided to try to update him of his condition anyway.

"I found an emergency Medkit," she said. "…or what's left of one. All I could salvage was the hypospray and some painkillers. There isn't much, but if you need some just let me know. Are you in much pain now…uh…_Sam_?"

"Not too bad," he answered, finally able to pay enough attention to listen. "I'm just having trouble concentrating."

"I hope it's not a concussion," she said. That wouldn't be good since she had no real way to keep him awake, especially since she needed to concentrate on rigging the subspace beacon. Hopefully it was just pain or shock that was making him disoriented.

"I don't think it's that," he said to her relief, even though she didn't quite trust his judgment on the matter given his current state of health and mind.

"Hmm…" she tried to consider the options logically. "Do you remember hitting your head at all during the struggle?"

Sam shook his head, which screamed back at him.

"May I?" Geena asked whilst hesitantly leaning closer to him.

"Sure," Sam gave her permission to examine his head for wounds. "Knock yourself out."

"Thanks, but I've already been unconscious once in the past day," she returned lightly as she placed a hand on his head. It was cool and refreshing, and pleasantly gentle as it moved through his hair and over his scalp.

"You're cold?" he asked. He wasn't sure if she was actually suffering from a temperature discomfort. Some women's hands were just cold all the time.

"A little," she responded, still searching his skull for signs of contusion. "No real lifesupport…remember?"

"Oh right," he conceded. "Then won't we freeze to death before anyone can find us or our air supply fails?"

"It doesn't look like you suffered any brain damage," she said playfully as she pulled back to sit beside him on her knees. "Although, it's kind of difficult to tell with you."

Sam wasn't familiar with the woman all that much, so it took him a moment to realize her jest, to which he finally smiled, but she had already moved on.

"We _may_ freeze to death," the engineer conceded. "But the warp core is still floating nearby and we'll probably continue to pass in close proximity to it every so often, inundating ourselves with radiation. We'll probably go from freezing to sweating several times before our artificial atmosphere finally becomes depleted of oxygen."

"This should be fun, then," Sam said, letting his sarcasm loose. It made him feel a little better.

"Lots and lots," she replied with equal sarcasm, but not maliciously. "But, not to potentially cut our little vacation short or anything, I think I'll work on getting that distress signal setup…you know, in case you get sick of all this rest and relaxation."

"Good idea, Chief," Sam conferred. "And speaking of rest, I think I'm going to get a little now."

She nodded her head to him before rising to her feet and walking the few steps to the edge of the metal heap, which contained a partially lit-up computer interface and a number of exposed circuits. She spoke up to catch him before he fell asleep.

"Oh, and Sam…"

"Yes?"

"You can call me 'Geena'."


	3. Saying Goodbye Is Never Easy

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Star Trek universe or its characters…**

**Author's note: Umm…not much to say besides, Here's some more for anyone who's actually reading this. No matter, I'm enjoying it. :-)**

Saying Goodbye Is Never Easy

"Sam."

A gentle voice calling his name roused Lavelle from his feverish slumber. He didn't open his eyes right away, savoring the feeling of a cool hand stroking his burning cheek. When Geena's soothing voice called his name again, he gave in and opened his eyes.

"I'm awake," he managed to choke out with some difficulty. His throat was dry and sore and he was covered in a cold sweat.

"Would you like something to drink?" Geena asked, proferring a silvery packet of liquid. "I found some emergency rations near where the Medkit had been stored. A few of them were salvageable."

Sam nodded his head in acceptance, then tried to sit up, his head spun and his leg screamed with renewed agony over the movement. He moaned and fell back to the floor.

"Let me help you," Geena coaxed, placing a hand behind his shoulder and guiding him to lean forward enough to drink from the packet she brought to his lips with her other hand. It was inarguably the most refreshing drink Sam had ever had the pleasure of swallowing. It soothed his parched tongue and scratchy throat. Unfortunately, it did nothing for the stabbing pain in his leg or the feeling that he was burning alive.

"Is the warp core nearby or about explode or something?" Sam asked after he had his fill of the emergency packet water and Geena had helped him to lie back down. She smiled at him, but concern lined her features.

"No, actually," she informed him. "You have a fever. I think you've gotten an infection."

"That makes sense," Sam said through gritted teeth. The pain in his leg only seemed to intensify with every passing moment.

"Are you in pain?" Geena asked, openly worried. "Would you like me to use the hypospray?"

Sam didn't answer her. What if it this was only the beginning, what if the pain was going to get a lot worse? What if he was just being weak right now? And if he was, then how was he going to handle the pain if it got worse? He felt ashamed of the situation he was in. He was the commanding officer out of the pair of them, and formerly the second-in-command of an entire Starfleet vessel. And yet here he was, helpless, being cared for by the Chief Enigneer, who had a number of other things on her plate, like getting them rescued, or keeping them from being sucked out into the vacuum of space.

Geena just watched her only surviving shipmate as he appeared to consider something in his head. At least, that's what she hoped he was doing. She was no doctor, and possessed very limited medical training, but she could tell he wasn't in good shape. He had most definitely contracted a fever, and from what she knew, that probably signaled that the wound he had sustained while fighting the Jem'Hadar had become severely infected. And it was probably her fault, she hadn't been careful enough when she dressed the wound, she was too distracted with stopping the profuse bleeding.

Shaking off the guilty thoughts, Geena focused on her next task. She swallowed hard. She wasn't sure how the commander would respond, how he felt about Kobayashi Maru-type situations. But given his condition, this might be the only chance he had.

"Sam," she said his name lightly, trying to draw his attention back to her. When he finally met her eyes after several tries, she continued. "I've been able to rig up the console over there…" She inclined her head signaling the one behind her, the only one lit up. "…to record a...a message in case, you know, we aren't rescued."

She took a deep breath and studied his face. He didn't seem offended by the idea. In fact he nodded his head in acknowledgement and gratitude.

"I've already recorded a message informing Starfleet of the attack and subsequent events. And my own message," she explained. "So, I was wondering if you wanted to, had some family that you wanted to…uh…say 'goodbye' to?"

"Yes, thank you," Sam said, nodding his head, relieving Geena's discomfort. He couldn't help feeling slightly jealous of her, her abilities. She had thought of everything. She was the perfect Starfleet officer, even under the pressure of such a situation. He couldn't believe that, even had he been uninjured, he would have been as exemplary an officer as she was proving to be.

"Okay," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "You're going to have to be sitting up to be on level with the interface. And given your leg, I thought maybe you'd want to use that painkiller now?"

"That sounds like a good idea," Sam concurred. He let his eyes slip closed against the pain and feverish exhaustion for a moment. When he opened them again, Geena was leaning over him, administering the hypospray. Its effects were almost immediate, and he felt a wave of tingling relief flood over his body.

Geena knew the effects of the hypospray would be almost immediate, but gave it a few moments for Sam to recollect himself fully before offering to help him sit up. She offered one hand to him, which he gratefully accepted, but even so, it was immensely difficult for Sam to lift himself to a sitting position. Her other hand went to support his back as he shifted so that he was completely upright and facing the console. Unfortunately, when she removed her support, he wavered, still too dizzy to hold himself steady. She quickly caught him and held him firmly still by the arms.

"Thank you," he said softly. "What would I do without you?"

"I don't know…" she said teasingly. Then she turned more serious. "Are you alright, now?" He nodded his head. "I'm going to turn it on then, and you can start your message, okay?"

When again he nodded his head in affirmation, Geena leaned him against what remained of the nearby wall, watched him carefully for a moment to be sure he wouldn't fall over, then turned to see to her task.

"Wait," she said, pausing. Instead she returned to the man slumping against the debilitated bulkhead, pathetically attempting to maintain his concentration.

Sam watched as she bent down to pick something off the debris-strewn floor before crouching down beside him. She then leaned in and he started as her hand quickly appeared in front of his face, holding a yellow rag torn from her uniform. After he realized her intention, he held still for her as she wiped the sweat and grime off his face. It was slightly embarrassing and made him feel like a child again, having a doting mother wash his face, but he also enjoyed it. He couldn't deny how good it felt to have the perspiration and dirt removed from his pores, allowing his skin to breathe again, even though he knew that in his feverish state, he would soon be drenched with sweat again.

"There," Geena said with a smile when she finished, leaning back to study his face.

"How do I look?" Sam asked, able to flash her one of his more charming grins now that the pain had subsided some.

"Perfect," she replied before moving to the other side of what was left of their vessel, what was left of their home of the past few years. She found the panel she needed to start the recording and placed her hand to hover above it. "Ready?"

He nodded his head and swallowed hard, trying to clear his mind and organize his thoughts. He licked his lips. She initialized the recording and with an incline of her head signaled that he should begin his message.

"Uh…This is Sam Lavelle, formerly second-in-command of the _Federation Starship Manitoba_, which was recently destroyed in battle against several Jem'hadar vessels-but I guess you already know all about that, thanks to our Chief Engineer. In case we aren't rescued, I guess I just wanted to say to my family…Mom, Dad, Andy, 'I love you guys.' And thanks for always being there for me, supporting me. I know, we haven't been as close as we should've been, especially lately, and it's my fault, I've been busy with my career…Well, I guess that's just an excuse. I could've made the time for you, for my family…" He paused momentarily, almost overcome by his emotions, before he could continue. Although affected by his obvious discomfort, Geena found that she could not turn away. He forced a smile, a bittersweet one. "But no regrets. I've had a good life, a meaningful one, I think, and a lot of that was thanks to you, Mom and Dad. And Andy…we had a lot of good times, good memories…I want you to remember the times we had together, not the times I failed to come home.

"And lastly, I guess I just want you to know that I don't regret serving in Starfleet, despite what's happened. It was part of the risk and I knew it. And I want you to know that I didn't have to face this alone. Geena is here with me-Geena come here…" He beckoned to her with his hand and she shook her head. She didn't feel like she could, or should intrude upon his goodbye message. "C'mon." But how could she refuse him, when he was suffering so much? She made her way over to where he sat propped against the wall, while managing to skirt the range of the recording device. He held his hand out to her and again she realized that she couldn't refuse. She took it and found herself pulled down and into the frame of the recording next to him.

"This" he said. "This is Geena Skolowolski." He looked at her and smiled, and she smiled back awkwardly, out of embarrassment and shyness. "And she saved my life, fought off a Jem'hadar that was about to slice me in two. It's only thanks to her that I've made it this long, that you'll get this message. And although I'd never wish this upon her, or anybody," He turned to meet her eyes, addressing the last bit directly to her, knowing he wouldn't be able to express the sentiment to her in any other way. "I couldn't ask for a better companion.

"So..." He returned his attention to the recording device across the room swallowing hard. "I guess this is 'Goodbye.'"


End file.
